Day 2: Blue Mosque, Hagia Sofia and Underground Cistern

9am came painfully quickly.  I finally got some sleep after the 4:30am call to prayer and was in no shape to face the world in this time zone yet, but acquiesced, not willing to sleep away our very hard-earned vacation.

We headed downstairs for the complimentary Turkish breakfast: bread, soft boiled eggs, veggies, cheese, olives, cereal, yogurt, jam (fruit and olive varies), and tea.  Feeling slightly perkier (I think it was a combo of the very necessary shower and two cups of Turkish tea, like a mix between english breakfast and early grey, but tastes less like bandaids, we set out on today’s adventures.

First off was the Blue Mosque.  We waited in a short line, admired the many “mosque cats,” took off our shoes, converted our pashminas into head scarves and entered in the mosque to admire the great domed architecture, ornately patterned blue tiles and golden calligraphy.  Although the entire mosque smelled of sweaty feet (a downside of the no shoe rule) and wafts of spicy BO (a downside to the Turks), we enjoyed it thoroughly.  We took the touristy Rick Steve’s guidebook, which helped explain and add value to everything we saw.

David, Carla, Shane and I covered up in the Blue Mosque

Outside the Blue Mosque

Next up: Hagia Sofia.  Just up the street was another great architectural treat.  It was here that I discovered my passion for our gorilla pod and its great indoor, low lighting, non flash and two second timer photo taking.  It was also here that this passion turned deadly and I snapped the tripod in two, thush dashing all my hopes and dreams, at least until we found some super glue.  We liked the quirky parts of this site, like how many of the windows were asymetrical, with maybe two windows on one side and a painted one on the other side, presumably to save structural integrity.  There wer also great mixes of Christian and Muslim iconography since the mosque was originally a Christian church.

Hagia Sofia from the Blue Mosque

Hagia Sofia at sunset

Interior

There was a hole in the wall that promised that if you spun your thumb around in it and felt water, your prayer/wish would come true.  Did not feel any water.

Posing.

We dined on recommended meatballs, salty yogurt drinks and salad for lunch, relaxed on the rooftop terrace of our hotel with views of the Blue Mosque and Bosphorous Strait, while we planned our next sights and listened (hard to do anything else) to yet another call to prayer.

We hurried over to the Underground Cistern (very neat), had kebabs and fresh lavosh on a chilly terrace with a view, and headed home, thoroughly exhausted.

The Underground Cistern – thanks, gorilla pod!

Fishes and moneys in the water

Upside down Medusa head held up one of the pillars

View of the Bosphorous from a Tea cafe at the edge of a park.

We saw lots of little boys walking around wearing little sultan costumes.  Apparently they get to wear that after they get circumcised. So lucky.

Dinner with a view

Next up: Bosphorous Cruise!

Last minute Istanbul/Germany Trip: The beginning

Carla and David were planning a last minute trip to Istanbul and invited me to go along.  Since I only work 3 days a week and things have been pretty slow lately, I jumped on the opportunity.  Shane was able to rearrange his schedule last minute so he came along as well.  The following posts are from my journal that I’m just getting around to posting.

SLC-SFO-FRA-IST –  May 29-31, 2009

What a day (?).  We woke up bright and early at 5:30 am on Friday to catch our flight to San Fran, where we were to meet up with Carla for the remainder of our travel.  David was going to meet us in Frankfurt since he was using his ticket voucher from our Europe mess a couple years ago.  Flying standby is an interesting and very stressful experience.  We attempted to get on the 1pm flight to Frankfurt, only to find out there were only two seats left (although first class seats) and there were three of us.  The loads looked much better on the 6 pm flight, so we decided not to split up, hang out in the exclusive Red Carpet Club room and take the last flight out.  On the way to the gate, our hopes were dashed when the PA announced that a flight to London was just cancelled and everyone would have to be rerouted.  Through Frankfurt.  On OUR flight.  Our hearts sank.  Stomachs churned.  Decisions were made.  The loads looked awful for the next two days.  Shane and I listed ourselves on a flight back to SLC on Sunday and Carla was prepared to jump seat for 10 hours to meet up with David, who was already on his way to Frankfurt, so the poor child wouldn’t be stranded in Germany by himself.

Then our luck changed.  With five minutes left before departure, the gate agent called us up and informed us that there were three seats left with our names on them, one in business and two in first.  We wined and dined, watched our choice of movies, snacked on warm nuts, slipped on our fuzzy socks, quilted blanket, eye mask and earplugs, reclined our seats completely flat and woke up in Frankfurt, 10 hours later.

After an exchange of texts (only 20 cents internationally), we met up with David, who had arrived four hours earlier and had explored every inch of the desolate FRA terminal C.  Since Carla can only take two companions on Int’l Star Alliance flights, I purchased a full fare Turkish Airlines ticket for Shane to get to Istanbul, hastily and in 1/2 Turkish, 1/2 English, on the phone while boarding the SFO-FRA flight.  Shane left earlier than us, and we waited for our flight at 10 pm by taking the train into downtown Frankfurt for bratwurst, weiner schnitzel (not hot dogs after all) and a stroll along the river.  Jet lagged, exhausted and still shaken from our near miss in SFO, we headed back to catch the last flight out to Istanbul.

It turns out our string of poor luck wasn’t over yet.  The flight was over sold by 7 and there were 6 standbys listed, including us.  Fearing that we wouldn’t make it on the flight, the absurdly nice capitan said that there was 1 seat left, but he’d allow Carla and I jumpseat.  Unhard of!  Although it would have made quite a dramatic story, two more seats opened up and David and I not only got on the flight with Carla, but we had exit rows, dinner and nearly 2 hours of uninterrupted sleep.

We received a text from Shane saying he made it to the Sultan Hill Hotel (and they had availabilities, another source of potential drama that was avoided) via tram and bus and walking.  We headed in that direction with energy and excitement to be reunited again, nearly missing every flight and cancelling the trip all together.  So at a little passed 3:30 am Sunday morning, we hit the sack, wide and not sleepy in the least.  Finally starting to drift off an hour later, we were awoken by something so foreign yet so loud: the 4:30am call to prayer, blasted from the 6 minarets of the Blue Mosque, located only a half block away.

Welcome to Istanbul!

Memorial Day Weekend: Slot Canyon Fail

One thing we love about living in Utah is that people actually get out and enjoy the outdoors.  So when my friend Adrienne invited us to go backpacking in the slot canyons in Escalante National Monument, we eagerly jumped on board.  We’ve been wanting to go down there since we moved here, but have been hesitant since we were inexperienced and don’t really know the best places to go, where to camp and how to get there.  Luckily Adrienne’s family goes there all the time, so our trip should be perfect.

Right.

The weather report went from bad to worse, and whenever I’d mention the increasing probability of precipitation (“uh, it’s now at 75%… should we be concerned?”), I was told that I had a negative attitude.  So instead, we packed extra fleeces, rain jackets, umbrella and sent a positive, sunshine-filled message out to the universe and hopped in the car for the long drive down south.

It rained the entire drive.  We stayed the night in Torrey, UT and continued through the windy canyon and then finally sloshed through about 15 miles of mud until we met our fate: a dry wash road crossing that had developed into a torrential river.  We contemplated trying to cross it after it had shrunk to about mid calf deep, but the banks of the river were so silty that we sunk half way up the tires.  The 4 wheel drive Expedition probably could have made it with a running start, but the second car in our caravan was only 2 wheel drive and nearly got stuck and spun out several times on the “dirt” road and most definitely would have taken a long bath in that river had we attempted to cross it. Adri waded across the river to talk to the people who were stuck on the other side, and they said they had been in the Neon & Fence Canyon area (where we were headed) for the last 3 days and weren’t able to go in any of the slot canyons because of the constant flash flooding.  They had been planning on staying the entire week but were getting so sick of the non stop rain that they were heading back.  They had been waiting on the other side of the river for about 3 hours already, when the river was waist deep.  I hope they were able to get across it before the next wave of torrential rain started later that day.

The “dry” wash crossing, aka the moment we declared trip failure.

Me and Adri.

So after 8 hours of driving and our tails tucked between our legs, we dayhiked to the waterfall at Calf Creek, hit up some great burgers in Beaver, and headed back to Salt Lake, without even setting up a single tent or eating a single hot dog.

The umbrella actually worked quite well.

The group.

Despite the fact that we never even made it to our destination, it was actually a really fun trip.  Adrienne and Max’s families are really nice and fun and we hope they’ll think of us when (if?) they go back.  And maybe I’ll have to find a better method of weather manipulation than sending messages out to the universe.

Moab: Slick Rock? More like Flip (over the handle bars) Rock.

About 30 of the friends in the area hit up Moab, UT for Mother’s Day weekend.  We camped (or more accurately “kamped”) at the KOA, mountain biked, dirt biked, swam, hiked, and picnicked.

This was my first time mountain biking and I was pretty confident since I had been going to spin class at the gym for several months.   Apparently my skills on the bike are best when the bike is attached to the floor, hip hop music is blaring, and an insanely fit instructor tells me when to gear up and down.  While the rest of the group dirt biked and hiked, a bunch of us found an “easy” mountain biking trail, Gemini Bridges.  This 16 mile loop had a 1500 foot climb and patches of deep sand.  And this deep sand eventually got the best of me.  As if in slow motion (I was trying to get back on my bike at the time), I lost control, grabbed the front break accidentally, and gracefully flipped over the handle bars, tangling my legs in the wheels and handle bars, while I face planted and slid down the hill.  Shane said he was surprised that I fell.  Apparently normal people have bailing instincts.  I do not.  I just go down with the ship.  Thankfully I didn’t get too banged up, but I do have a set of matching handle bar bruises on the front of my quads.  Classy.

Devry, Tracey and Jolene at the beginning of the trail.

The site of my crash on the way back down. It was very steep.

The group (minus photographer Shane): Shara, Jayna, Jolene, Tracey, Amy, Rita and Devry

Looking down the canyon from the Gemini Bridges.

After we got back from the bike ride and rested up a bit at the campground, Shane and Neil decide it is a great time to go bike Slick Rock trail.  And so they did. I’m not entirely sure how Shane survived.  He must have some sort of secret source of energy, because I was pretty close to dead after the first ride.

Neil heading out on the Slick Rock trail.

The Colorado River

We spent the rest of the weekend swimming and hanging out.  We had a great Sunday morning meeting in the park, followed by an impromptu picnic, complete with pizza, soccer and slacklining.  Shane was quite popular with the littles.

The group after Sunday meeting in the park.

Shane and his slack line fan club

As soon as Shane brought the slack line out, all the kids swarmed around and patiently waited in line for their turn to “walk” across.  There were a couple kids and adults that are really close to getting it on their own.  Most of the kids had a death grip on Shane’s arm, though.

What a great way to spend the weekend, only 4 hours away from home!